


what we inherited

by Dean (pretentioys)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Abominations (Dragon Age), Animal Death, Blood Magic, Dragon Age Headcanons, Gen, Mages and Templars, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Dragon Age: Origins, To Be Edited, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 11:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16576049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretentioys/pseuds/Dean
Summary: Bound to a spirit from birth, the mage, Ea'lin, tries her best to survive.





	1. where magic leads

**Author's Note:**

> for fair warning, this is unpolished at the moment. i intend to come back and flesh out the substance more when I actually have a real computer again

For the few years that Ea’lin had been at the Ferelden Circle, it was not abnormal for her to be allowed out of the Tower with a Templar escorting her, of course. When a nearby settlement needed a healer, that’s where Ea’lin went. 

Few people could distinguish between bloodletting and blood magic, the practice was about the same to Ea’lin. Though, the discreet use of animals to supplement her healing was an asset. Nary a person missed a hen when a child survives sickness. 

The trip back to Lake Calenhad from West Hill was quiet, Ea’lin found it unusual. Her Templar escort, a flaxen-haired woman named Galeine had taken these trips out with Ea’lin a handful of times. Ser Galeine was mostly friendly, but not blind to the hazards that mages caused.

Eventually, Galeine’s steps faltered. Ea’lin paused, looking up at the taller woman standing still in the road. Shrouded by the forest, the pair were just out of sight of Lake Calenhad.

Ea’lin spoke, Starkhaven accent weighing on her voice, ”why are we stopped, Ser?”

Galeine’s glare was sharp, “I cannot allow this to continue on. I thought you a talented healer at first, but every time, we visit a town, I see a fowl or an old tabby goes missing...” 

Ea’lin’s eyes widened, her voice softening, “Whatever you think, can it not wait until we return to the Circle?” 

“No,” Galeine turned toward the elf, unsheathing her sword, “the Chant is very clear about blood magic.”

Voice quivering, Ea’lin stepped away from her escort, “Ser Galeine, what are doing?”

“Maleficar, I am doing my duty,” the Templar raised her sword, ready to run through the mage without ceremony.

Her words buzzed in the back of Ea’lin’s head, overwhelming her senses. Panic set in.

Acting on instinct, she raised a hand with intent, seizing Galeine’s blood itself. The Knight’s body went rigid at the magical vice, releasing her grip on her weapon. It was only temporary paralysis, but seeing the feral look on Galeine's face confirmed there would be no return to the Circle. 

Ea'lin tightened the ball of her first, willing herself to stop from shaking. She crept to Galeine’s fallen sword and tentatively picked it up.

“Yes, it is your duty,” a sad smile played on her lips, Ea’lin sighed as she stepped closer the woman, baring the blade, “and this shall be mine?”


	2. goading despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> murdering a templar leaves a mage with few options

The one thing they never tell you about blood is that it lasts. You could always wash the blood off your hands, but the splatter alone could remain for months. Flecks of dried blood on your clothes and skin, in your hairline, on your teeth. 

Ea'lin scrubbed at her face until it was blotchy and raw. 

Kneeling at a stream, she had to assess her options as an apostate. 

She had a little time before the body would be discovered. What was left of Ser Galeine remained on the main road to Denerim.

It would be an unfortunate soul to come across the bloody viscera with golden hair, a pitiable thing run through her by her own sword. 

On the Imperial Road, the work of a blood mage would not escape notice.

Yet Ea'lin lingered. 

Part of her - the part that the Chantry disciplined into her since she was a babe - wished to give Ser Galeine proper rites.

To burn the body, to speak the Chant on her behalf. At least to give her a chance for peace before the risk of undead possession on the body. 

But a pyre would draw more attention to Ea'lin, the smoke and the rotten smell would carry for miles out. Horrible as it was, survival was the most important thing now.

Ea'lin was bitter that Sacrifice was disquieted. The spirit offered no guidance or plan now. No, he would rather sulk. Even after their combined will carried out the act, he thought it justified to retreat into his despair, despondent. 

As always, his visage lurked in her periphery. It was cruel, really. To always be with her, but refuse to speak with her. It was the nature of spirits to be elusive, but being an abomination was her inheritance. It shattered that illusion of spirits as malevolent guides.  

“Da’len,” with one word, Sacrifice scolded her for dwelling on the past.

Appearing to her directly, Ea'lin's baiting had worked perfectly.

A wry smile played on her lips, she concentrated on the Spirit's form “aye, demon of despair, I know. But all your brooding is suffocating.” 

Sacrifice elected to ignore her mocking, instead urging her, “what's done is done. You must press on.”

“Pray, tell me where, ” Ea’lin stood up in frustration, “The Templars will want blood for blood, Redcliffe will put my head on a pike with Jowan, the Denerim Chantry will not give asylum to a maleficar, and the Dalish have fled!” 

“Dirthara-ma,” the Spirit’s patience was thin, “Wait for what comes.”

At his words, Ea'lin looked back Sacrifice, but he again vanished himself to her periphery. His spiritual way of telling her to fuck off. 

“Well, at least that's an answer,” she chided him, finally walking back toward the road, mentally preparing herself to meet ‘what comes’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's all for now, but I'll delve more into ea'lin's past later


End file.
